


Burning For You

by sexylibrarian12



Category: Stranger Things - Fandom
Genre: A Kretek Is A Clove Cigarette, Aftercare, Dom/sub, F/M, Flagrantly Art Kid Use of the Word 'Kretek", Jonathan At NYU, Light Bondage, Mild Painplay, Praise Kink, Really Sweet Aftercare, Smoking, Spanking, Takes Place During NYU Years, cigarette burns, implied open relationship, post season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 17:18:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9502130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexylibrarian12/pseuds/sexylibrarian12
Summary: Jonathan is just so lovely and I can't help myself...





	

“What are those?”

You flinch slightly and look up at your friend.

“What?” you ask, trying to sound innocent. You know full well what your friend is asking about, but you’d be mortified if she ever found out the reason.

“Those red spots on your arm. They’re perfectly round, it’s kinda funny.”

“Oh, I guess, uh… I guess I just scratched some bug bites too hard.” you hastily pull from thin air. You unconsciously run your hand lightly over the five little red circles on your forearm, each in a different stage of healing. You shiver at the sensation of touching them and the memory of how they got there.

\------------

You’re kneeling on dingy carpet next to an unmade bed, the smell of burning candles and cigarette smoke surrounding you like a warm blanket. Your arms are bound at the wrist behind your back with an old silk tie that’s beginning to fray. It’s alright, though, it’s not like it will ever be worn - Jonathan bought it from a secondhand store specifically for tying you up. 

Your hair hangs long and loose over your shoulders, covering your bare breasts. The only clothing you’re wearing is a lacey black thong that was purchased three boroughs away, your face red, not making eye contact with the bored cashier. It was all worth the look on Jonathan’s face when he saw it for the first time. 

There are soft footsteps behind you and you’re overcome with a heavy breath of clove smoke and Stetson aftershave, the electric sensation of another body near your own. You tip your head back and watch as Jonathan takes another drag of the kretek and blows the smoke out slow and thick like a dragon. You shiver slightly and he grins. He circles around until he’s standing in front of you and crouches down to your level. 

“So beautiful…” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Have you been good, pet?” Every time he uses the nickname you know it’s supposed to be derogatory, demeaning, but it’s like he can’t help himself; it always carries an undertone of love that you find so very reassuring. 

You shake your head in response to his question, your face a perfect mask of remorse. 

“Tell me.” he commands, taking another drag off the kretek.

You swallow nervously and try to look away, but he forces you look him in the eye with a firm finger under your chin. 

“I- I… made out with someone else. Eric from Trig. He pulled me behind the math building after class, where the bushes are really tall, and pushed me up against the wall.” 

“Did you try to stop him?” More smoke leaks out of his mouth as he talks, making him look almost sinister, and you have to suppress another shiver. 

“No.” you whisper, as if ashamed. 

“Hmm…” Jonathan looks as if he’s considering something. “Anything else?”

“Umm…” You hesitate. “I touched myself last night, while thinking of you.”

“Ok.” He takes one last drag on the cigarette. “You know the rules; a good spanking for touching yourself without permission, and for fooling around with someone else…” he trails off. You look up at him with wide, pleading eyes as you steel yourself for the pain. He slowly sweeps the hair away from your left shoulder and brings the cigarette close to the skin. 

“Here?” he asks, even though he knows you won’t refuse him. 

You nod slightly and he pushes the red hot ember into your flesh, causing you to cry out. He moans, unable to keep it in as you squirm on the floor. He only holds it for three seconds, but your blood is racing through you and your breath is rapid, tears well at the corners of your eyes. You merely gasp this time as another bolt of pain strikes nearby. The tears spill over and you whimper, but you’re not even close to using your safeword. 

Jonathan flicks the spent butt into the trash and stands. He studies your face to make sure you aren’t in any real distress before he hauls you up to your feet. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you down over his lap. The faded and worn material of his jeans feels familiar and comforting under your bare skin. 

Without warning the first blow comes down hard across you left buttock, causing you to jump and yelp. Jonathan chuckles quietly.

“One!” you exclaim before he decides you’ve forgotten to count and makes your punishment even longer. The next smack, to your right side this time, is expected and you manage to keep yourself still.

“Two!” you cry, voice already ragged. 

“So good.” Jonathan praises, rubbing his hand over your ass, pressing too hard. You whimper and you can practically feel him grinning. 

Another smack, and another. Again and again, you count them out all the while as your cheeks begin to burn. 

“Twenty!” you force out pitifully, tears streaking your face. 

“Such a good pet for me.” Jonathan praises, stroking your abused flesh lightly. The sensation is almost overwhelming and you start to wriggle on his lap. 

“Get up.” he orders, and you stand obediently with his guiding hands to keep your balance. 

You stay put, sniffling and wishing you could wipe the tears from your face and neck. Strands of hair stick to your chest with the dampness.

Jonathan sits on the bed and looks you over. He brushes the dripping tears from your jaw line, then slowly trails his fingers down your body. He teases your nipples for a couple of minutes and you sigh and push into the touch. He keeps moving down, smoothing over your sides, your hips, your thighs. He watches your face as he brings his fingers to the point of the triangle of black fabric that covers your most intimate parts. 

You sigh softly as he caresses you.

“Already wet for me. Such a good girl.” Jonathan murmurs. He tugs at the strings of your thong until it slips off your hips and down your legs. 

You can hardly stand waiting any longer, but Jonathan stands and pulls you into a deep kiss. You struggle against the tie, desperate to touch him. He breaks away and yanks off his shirt, following it with his jeans and boxers. He’s hard and eager; you lick your lips. 

He grabs a handful of your hair and shoves you face first onto the bed, then roughly spreads your legs apart. Without any preamble he thrust straight into your slick heat, moaning loudly. 

“So tight!” His voice is strained. “So perfect…”

You bite down on the sheets, it feels so good having him pound into you like this, so hard your bones shake. You cry out over and over again as he grasps your wrists in one hand to pull you back onto his cock even harder. You’re completely at his mercy and you couldn’t be happier. 

As he gets closer to the edge his grip shifts from your wrists to your hair. His other arm loops around your abdomen, just under your breasts, and pulls you up closer to his body. His thrusts are coming rabbit-quick and his breath is panting hard in your ear. 

“Fuck! Fuck!” he shouts. ”God damn, baby!”

He suddenly pulls out and presses is cock to the small of your back, thrusting shallowly a few times before cumming all over you. You can feel it wet on your fingertips and long to lick it off.

After a few moments of coming down Jonathan gently lays you back down and starts to untie you. He grabs some tissues off the bedside table to clean you up quickly, then carefully brings your arms down to your sides. He helps you turn over and lay comfortably on the bed before massaging your shoulders and upper arms back to life. 

You sigh in relief, already anticipating what will come next. The massage continues down your arms to your wrists. Jonathan raises your right hand and lays a few gentle kisses over the red marks leftover from the tie. He leans in closer and starts to trail open-mouthed kisses down from your neck to your chest, stopping briefly to toy with your nipples, then down to your swollen pussy. 

There’s little teasing as he kisses and licks your wet folds, flush with arousal. It’s ecstasy having him down there; he knows exactly what you like and is eager to please. He slips two fingers inside you and curls them up into your pleasure center as you buck down onto him. You push your fingers into his hair and hold on tight, riding out a glorious orgasm as he tongues your clit with slow, wide sweeps.

Jonathan pulls his fingers out and slowly licks them clean - he knows you so well, knows that you love that he loves the taste of you. Before he settles down beside you he retreats to the bathroom, coming back quickly with bandages and antiseptic ointment. He carefully cleans and bandages your burns and lays gentle kisses on them, his fingers trembling as they always do when you aren’t having sex and reality starts to creep back in on him. 

When he’s curled up behind you, holding you close, you begin to drift off.

“So, does Eric know about us?” he asks quietly, the command gone from his tone. 

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “but he seemed to think he can win me away. Had to put him in his place.”

“That’s my girl.” he grins. You can feel his smile against your shoulder, but it fades. “You’re so beautiful, so amazing. Always good to me - I don’t understand sometimes.” he whispers. He sounds a little sad and you know he’s wondering why he deserves you. 

“I trust you.” You turn over to face him. “I trust you and I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don't know if anyone cares, but my inspiration for this came from these perfectly round spots of eczema I have on my hands and how they look *exactly* like cigarette burns, then that got me to thinking how I'd like someone to put a cigarette out on me and how I could picture Jonathan being the one to do it and, well, this happened...


End file.
